Life: the only puzzle without an answer
by ThinkRANDOMLY
Summary: SPOILER WARNING SINCE ITS SET IN THE FUTURE SO THINGS WILL OCASIONALLY SLIP OUT. This is my first story and grammar is really bad, btw. Pleas reveiw- oh, and I'm in UK so I'll be using UK names. NO: Lando, Klaus ect!
1. Chapter 1

Professor layton was not very surprised to have received a letter. After all, he received many letters a week asking about un solved puzzles or mysterious goings on. What the professor did not expect was the contents of the envelope.

Luke had died.

Layton sat down in his favourite chair, reading and re-reading the piece of paper that lay in his shaking hands.

This couldn't possibly be right. The professor thought to himself, convinced that if he stared at the letter enough, it's message would change.

Even after an hours reading, it did not.

In the layton mobile,the professor drove to Luke's home.

Former home...

He shook the thought out of his head. The car swerved, and layton focused on the road once more, occasionally looking at the letter out of the corner of his eye.

He parked on the drive, which was surprisingly got out of the car and walked up the path to the house sadly.

Once inside, the professor gazed at his former protégées house. It had been nicer when he last visited, though that was a long time ago, now.

The walls which had once been violently babyish hades of blue were now pale grey, though layton was unsure whether or not it was a trick of the light. He looked up, the light flickered dimly, unable to shine through all of the cobwebs covering it.

A gentleman never. . .

Layton's train of thought was interrupted when he heard voices along the corridor. He made his way down the ill-lit hall and found himself in a room with about seven other people, most of them clad in dark clothes apart from one who wore a pale pink suit. The man in the suit was sat at a desk holding several pieces of paper in one hand and was waving the other, beckoning the professor in.

This seems to be the right place Layton thought, sitting down on an uncomfortably hard dining chair that had been brought into the study to accommodate the large amount of people that had gathered in the study.

The professor, now aged fifty-four, sighed with an air of depression. Luke had died aged thirty-one, twenty-three years his junior.

Luke had left a son behind, and a network of friends and family. Now that Luke was dead and flora in candida with her husband and children, who would the professor leave behind? He no longer had anyone. Just his books and students.

The professor sighed again.

The man in the pink suit stood up an cleared his throat, announcing that the reading of the will was due to begin in five minutes.

Thirty seconds later, he coughed loudly to get everyone's attention. All the people in the room looked up. Now that they were doing so, layton managed to get a good look at their faces. He recognised none.

The man in the pink suit- who had now clarified that he was Luke's lawyer began to read Luke's will aloud.

" All of you have have accepted the invitation to the reading of my will, Thank you for taking the time to come.

However, I'm afraid that you've come in vain. No material wealth will be made available to you, I wish only to state who will receive custody of my son. "

Everyone other than the professor and the lawyer sighed at this point, clearly loosing interest. One even got up at left.

The cheek of it, why, a true gentleman never. . .

Layton flushed red slightly with anger, but then returned to his natural complexion and continued to listen to the Lawyer.

"The person whom I would wish to take care of my son is a true friend. Someone who has stuck with me through thick and thin, someone I am truly proud to associate myself with. Someone, to who I owe my life. If it were not for him, I would not be the man I am today. That person is-"

Layton stood up expectantly


	2. Chapter 2

"Clive Dove!"

Layton sat down sheepishly when he heard that the name that had been called was not his, but he then pieced it together. He turned around in shock and saw the criminal who had destroyed half of London. How could THIS be the man that Luke was entrusting his child with?! There had to be a mistake. Layton stood up in protest as clive walked past him towards the front of the room.

" I must say, its an honour that like wanted me to care for his child" clive began " I'm so glad that my old friend who did so much for me felt that I and I alone was the only one he found worthy to look after Brandon here. "

Clive gestured to a chair at the front of the room. Brandon got down, rubbing the last few tears from his cheeks so that no one would be able to tell that he had been crying about the death of his father.

He stood next to his new guardian and frowned. None of the people were familiar to him at all.

They must be daddy's old friends from work, he decided.

Brandon had his fathers eyes and his mothers brunette hair that curled slightly at the tips. He was ten years old, though a little taller than his father had been at that age. He wore a shirt without a tie and a pale green blazer on top. He also wore navy shorts and dark green knee high socks on his feet were brown lace up shoes, slightly worn from all the running about he did in them.

He stared inquisitively at the professor, who he thought he recognised from somewhere. His stares were returned with a smile from Layton, which startled the young boy who stepped back and hid behind Clive's legs.

Clive led Brandon back to his seat and occupied the one next to him while a maid brought in a small trolley of tea and scones.

The professor stood and walked to clive, who was still seated next to Brandon.

" mr dove?" He inquired, tipping his hat nervously. Clive looked up and smiled.

" oh, hello professor! How do you like my new hat?" Clive lovingly brushed his fingers across his pale blue fedora.

Layton smiled. This had not been the reaction he had expected.

"Its a lovely hat, Clive. Would you be kind enough as to allow me to inquire why-"

"Why I'm Brandon's guardian? It's simple really. I know him, why, I'm practically his uncle!" Clive laughed, though the professor didn't know why.

He shuffled back a bit. "That wasn't the question I was going to ask. Clive, I actually was wondering why they've let you out so early. I was under the impression that life sentences tend to last a little longer than twenty years or so. "

Clive frowned. "Not in front of Brandon, Hershel. He's still just a boy. "

Brandon frowned, mirroring Clive's expression perfectly. " I'm not a little kid anymore, Clive!"

It was now the professors turn to frown.

"Luke! A gentleman never refers to adults using their first na-"

Layton stopped. Brandon looked confused. " I'm... I'm sorry. Please, If I could be excused for just a moment..."

And with that, the professor left the room and slumped down on the floor of the hallway.

Professor layton began to cry.


	3. Chapter 3

In the study, people were beginning to leave. It had been a wasted evening in their eyes.

Finally, professor layton re-entered the room, his cheeks still slightly wet and his eyes red and puffy. Clive withdrew a pocket watch from the left pocket of his blue pinstriped waistcoat. It was eight PM.

"Ok, Brandy, off to bed. "

Brandon began to protest, but saw the professor coming.

I bet the grown ups are going to talk, which means I have to go since I'm not old enough, he thought, as he left he room and climbed the wooden stairs to his bedroom.

Brandon had assumed correctly, and as soon as he was gone Clive waved Layton over, ready and willing to have a conversation that would be able to satisfy any and all of the professors questions.

Layton joined him, though somewhat uncertainly. He was unsure what to make of clive. He had forgiven him. The professor was not someone to hold a grudge. . . But something about Clive didn't ring true.

"Hello, Hershel. How are you taking this?"

" I- well, I suppose..." Layton tried not to say anything about his feelings- he might tear up again and he did not want that.

" it's ok. " Clive patted Layton on the back.

"It's ok to be upset. Luke certainly was!"

Clive laughed again. Although the professor was quizzical about Clive's comment, he said nothing.


	4. Chapter 4

"He-he's not coming back, is he professor?" Clive asked rhetorically.

Layton looked up at the man.  
"No. I'm afraid he's gone. But- oh clive, I know tha-that his death was quite sudden, but Luke was a happy person. He would want us to celebrate how he lived his life, not mourn how it was ended.  
And anyhow, it would make much more sense to mourn at the funeral, my boy. "

Clive looked up at layton, guilt written all over his face.  
"We've already had the funeral, professor..."

Layton looked hurt.  
He stared into his now cold tea, watching his reflection become distorted by the ripples.  
"Oh..."

Clive stood up. "I'm sorry, professor. I didn't even think to invite you... Luke must have know he was ill. He was almost... Obsessed with getting his will ready, writing out a list of who should attend his funeral, what would happen to Brandon..." Clive hung his head and began looking at his shoes.

Layton didn't look up from his tea." Do you mean to say that...Luke chose not to invite me?"

Clive's head sprang up. He began to speak in an apologetic tone " No! That's not what I'm saying, Hershel! He probably just forgot. That does seen the most likely option..."

Layton continued to look down at his tea. " Hershel? Why would you address me as such, my boy?"

Clive looked embarrassed. " I just thought... Well... We're both adults, and you were never MY professor... I suppose it made more sense... Umm... Sir"

Layton looked up and smiled.  
"Would you mind if I were to return tomorrow? Only I still have many questions but it is growing late and I must return home. Although if you decline I shall not complain, if that is what you would prefer. "

Clive stared at the professor for a second. "Yes...yes, go ahead. I look foreword to it, Hershe-sir"

The professor smiled again, setting his untouched teacup on the table. " then I shall return at noon tomorrow. Thank you for the tea and...  
Clive?"

"Yes?"

" you may call me Hershel"

Layton nodded at clive as a gesture of goodbye and left.

Clive smiled to himself, and then began to laugh again.


	5. Chapter 5

Brandon sat up in bed. He couldn't go to sleep, if he did then he would die.

Just like dad.

He felt himself growing tired, his head drooping, his eyes closing. Brandon sat up and pinched both of his cheeks and twisted.  
If he was going to stay up for the rest of his life, he'd need something to occupy himself with. Looking around with caution, Brandon slid out of bed and tiptoed across the wooden floor. He was glad that he had worn socks to bed. They stopped the floor from squeaking too much.  
Like a silent ninja, Brandon made his way to other side of his room without making a sound. His hand hovered over his toy cars, but he decided that they would be no fun to play with under his bed sheets. He instead chose a book ABOUT cars, but as he groped around for it in the dark, he grabbed the wrong book, a photo album, and hundreds of pictures fluttered down to the floor silently in a delightful contrast to the heavy thud the photo album made when it crashed onto the ground.

Clive looked up, his head facing the ceiling. He'd heard a sound, he was sure of it. Some guardian HE'D be if Brandon was already hurt on his first day!  
He put his own tea down and the dashed downstairs, the end of his blue coat flew up as he ran. He took a match book from his pocket and lit the candle that sat on the desk next to the door.  
Expecting to see a hurt little boy, Clive was overwhelmed with relief when he saw that Brandon was simply sitting on the floor intently studying pictures and newspaper cuttings.  
Sighing with both relief and annoyance, clive scooped up the pictures from the floor and looked at Brandon.  
"Didn't I tell you to go to bed?" He asked jokingly.

Brandon looked up from a photo Luke and the professor, it was curled slightly at the edges and slightly brown, but the people in it were clear enough to make out.  
"Yes, but I couldn't sleep"  
That wasn't technically a lie. Although Brandon was perfectly able to fall asleep, he couldn't. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

Elsewhere, on a long dusty road leading into London, the professor was driving back to his Lonely home.

He thought about the conversation he had just taken part in. Clive said that Luke had been sad. He wondered what could have made him feel that way? Clive also mentioned that Luke had known he was dying. Would that have affected his mood?

Layton thought back to the last time he had seen Luke. It had been about eight years ago. Brandon was two and Luke was twenty-three. He had seemed fine then, but now that the professor came to think of it, he hasn't seemed particularly happy.

Layton thought back further to about ten years ago, when Luke's fiancé died during childbirth...

The professor stopped the car. He was now at his destination. Home.

He got out and locked the door, then went into his house, pausing in the kitchen. He decided that he wasn't hungry and went to bed instead.


	6. Chapter 6

It was noon and, as the professor had promised the evening before, layton stood outside Luke's old house.  
He knocked twice and waited. After all, a gentleman was always patient. A few seconds later, Brandon opened the door and looked up at the professor.  
"Clive! He's here!" He shouted in the direction of the stairs. Clive came down them seconds after, laughing as he ran his fingers over his hair trying to fix the bit at the back that stuck up.  
"Ah, Hershel! How are you?" Clive inquired, rubbing his eyes and trying to disguise a yawn as a cough.  
"I'm fine" answered the professor " but you look terrible. Have you had trouble sleeping my boy?"

Clive laughed again.  
" oh no, quite the opposite Hershel. You see, I've only just woken up. "

"Don't you have to get up for work?" The professor asked in a slightly shocked tone.

Clive gave him a look. " I inherited the dove family fortune, what the heck do you think?" Clive had answered quickly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Mmm. So, I assume we are to discuss Luke. As you may be aware, Luke and I have been... Distant as of late"

The professor looked slightly upset when he uttered those last few words. He knew that he and Luke would be far from "distant" from now on.

Clive invited layton in, agreeing that they would talk about the late Luke Triton and promised that any questions would be answered. He led the professor into the dining room.

"So Hershel. Where to begin?"

Layton listened intently as Clive spoke about Luke, and, when Clive appeared to be finished, Layton began to ask his questions. Although Clive's speech had been interesting, it hadn't told him much that he didn't already know.

" Clive, or would you prefer me to address you as Mr. Dove?"

"Clive would be fine. "

"Very good. So I was wondering, why would they let you out of jail so early? If of course, this is not a subject you wish to converse with me about, I do understand"

"No no, Hershel, I was actually hoping that You'd ask. You see -"


	7. Chapter 7

CRASH!

Something in the kitchen had broken. Both clive and the professor got up to see what all the commotion was about, though Clive got up and into the kitchen reasonably faster. He was only thirty-seven. Thirty-eight come may. Layton on the other hand was fifty-four and although he was not yet elderly, he certainly felt old.  
In the kitchen, Brandon was lying on the floor covered in biscuits.  
"What the-"  
A stern look from the professor prevented Clive from swearing.  
"I mean... What are you doing on the floor?"

Brandon chuckled as Clive and Layton helped him up, but he was quite wary of the professor. Although they had only just met the day before, he seemed rather familiar and Brandon hated the feeling of De Ja Vu.

"I was just getting some biscuits. " He stated, though the fact could have been made clear without speech due to the amount of custard creams on his head.

"I can see THAT began Clive, feigning an angry voice though it was clear to all that he was not angry, only glad Brandon wasn't hurt.  
"You've made THAT rather clear, but what I don't understand is why you needed to bring the biscuit tin down for the sake of a few rich teas!"

Brandon turned his nose up. " I don't like rich teas. They are plain biscuits for plain people who dunk them in their plain tea and I do not like tea!"

Layton smiled. They boy was less like Luke that he previously thought. Clive whistled an a maid came to clean up the mess.  
Clive supported Brandon as he limped out. Only, the professor was sure that the biscuit tin had fallen on his hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Clive gave Brandon two custard creams and a glass of milk with the promise of more if he stayed out of the way for the next hour or so.

Needless to say, the young boy ran as fast as his bruised leg would carry him, two biscuits in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He climbed the stairs, but instead of going into his room, he snuck into Clive's. Brandon noticed yesterday that Clive had taken the photo album with him when he left, and the young child intended to retrieve them.

He tiptoed around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the chest of drawers- not to mention under the bed, but poor Brandon found nothing. He was about to abandon his quest and was emerging from under the bed when he heard footsteps. It was clive.

Brandon formed a ball and held his breath, each step grew louder and louder, coming towards the bed. Three steps and clive would be there.

Two steps.

One step.

Clive stopped at the bed and kneeled down. He then proceeded to open a drawer built into the bed frame. He removed something and closed the drawer before finally exiting the room and closing the door behind him.  
Brandon listened to Clive go downstairs and then waited a minute. Once he was sure it was safe to come out, he crept out from under the bed and kneeled where Clive had mere moments prior. He felt the panel and pressed hard. The drawer sprang open, revealing a few wads of money, a spare pocket watch, some legal documents, some photographs and the album. Brandon seized it with his chubby little fingers, also grabbing the lose photos according to the assumption that they had fallen out of the book. He tucked the book under his arm and made for the door. He reached for the handle and turned but the door didn't open. Clive must have locked it when he left.

Like it or not, Brandon was trapped.

* * *

Meanwhile, layton and Clive sat themselves down in the dining room. Clive had just sent Brandon off to play. He waited until after he had heard Brandon's bedroom door Close to continue his conversation with the professor.  
"So, Hershel, you were asking about my early release?"

The professor nodded once. "Yes. Please, do continue. "

Clive nodded in response.  
"Well, being rich made my arrest meant quite the scandal! One day, I think I was twenty-five, I received a series of letters from my lawyer, promising that he could free me. All I had to do was of course, was back his plan financially"  
He paused here, noticing that Layton was about to ask a question.  
"Now now, Hershel. I know what it is that you want to ask, and I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't know Exactly HOW he got me out of jail, but I DO know that it cost me two thousand pounds."  
Here Clive paused again, allowing the professor to fully understand just how much money Clive had inherited.

"Mmm. Continue" replied the professor, seemingly unimpressed.  
A disheartened Clive told the next part of his tale.  
"Well, I of course obliged to pay the man. I had no other choice, I did have quite a biased trial. None of the jury even considered my argument before agreeing that I was guilty."

"Clive, you destroyed half of London!"

Clive laughed.  
"I didn't say that I was innocent, and I did plan to account for my actions, I only thought to mention that they are required to think before they convict. "

Layton shook his head.  
" and what then, Clive? When you were released, what did you do?"

I first looked for my lawyer. When I found him, he claimed to know nothing of my release. "

"Intriguing. May I ask, how did you and Luke grow so close?"

Clive stood up. " I think this will answer your questions on that, Hershel. "  
And with that, Clive hurried upstairs to his bedroom.

Once inside, he knelt down beside his bed and pushed down on a panel which opened to reveal a drawer. He took a small book out of it and closed it back. Clive stood and left, locking the door. He then returned downstairs to show layton.

"This should explain it all. " Clive started, handing Layton the book. " when you get the time to read it, I'm sure all of this will make a little more sense.

Layton thanked him and stood up to leave. He had a class to teach, and they couldn't be kept waiting, no matter how much the professor wanted to pursue his findings.

"Thank you Clive. I shall return with the book when I have reached completion in reading it. "

And with that the professor left and drove to Grenssenheller university.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, the professor sat up in bed when he heard the post arrive through the letter box.

He walked downstairs and collected his post, reluctant to open it.

"Don't be ridiculous!" He thought. " it's just mail. Nothing to worry about."

He tore the envelopes open one by one and placed them down in a line on the table.

He opened the first one. Bills.

He opened the second one.

Bills.

He opened the third one.

It was a letter from Randall.

"Hershel, how have you been? I am writing for no reason other than a friendly hello. We haven't spoken in years, shocking considering that we were once best friends. Angela and Henry send their love, and I have made you a puzzle, for old times sake.

Yours,

Randall. "

The letter ended there. Layton shook the envelope gently, but nothing fell out. He turned the letter so that he could study the back but it was just plain white.

" quite perplexing. "


	10. Before

_Before. _

_Luke sat in the waiting room, his head in his hands. _

_"Mr triton" began the doctor. _

_Luke looked up, relieved to see a healthy baby boy in the doctors arms. _

_"I'm afraid I have some...bad news, mr Triton" the doctor continued. _

_" Your fiancée, she didn't make it. "_

_Luke's heart skipped a beat and he stepped backwards, shaking his head. _

_"No...she can't...she didn't..."_

_Tears welled up in the young mans eyes as he turned around and brought his hands back up to his head. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. _

_She was only twenty. She was too young to die. These things didn't happen. They couldn't happen. _

_Luke shoved the door open and stepped into the room where his love lay, motionless. The young man shut his eyes quickly and stepped back out into the waiting room again. He didn't want to see. _

_He glanced towards the baby, his baby...HER baby. A child that would never know its mother. _

_Luke stared at the floor, his head low and his fringe shadowing his left eye. He shook it out of the way and walked out of the hospital. He was walking in no particular direction. He wasn't thinking. He hadn't planned. He just let his feet take over and soon his feet had taken him to his mentors house. The young man raised a hand, ready to knock, and then withdrew it. _

_He didn't need the professor to baby him. He was an adult now, and as much as he craved the professors calm and reassuring tone of voice, he couldn't rely on layton to be his crutch anymore. He had a son now. Luke was a father, and if he was going to raise a child, he needed to have finished being raised himself and walk on his own two feet. _


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for reading this far. I've only just worked out how to add these forewords, so sorry for the delay in author to reader Interaction. **

**Firstly, I'd like I'd like to apologise for my bad grammar, and at the same time ask for reviews. They are much appreciated as this is my first fanfiction and I would love to know what you think. So thank you and enjoy the story. **

**Also, every tenth chapter will be a flashback to events before the story takes place, and to those of you that hate OCs in fanfiction, sorry for any characters that aren't in the games but brandon is essential to the story. **

**(:}**

* * *

Clive sat at the foot of Brandon's bed surveying his handiwork. He had done quite a good job with the bandage, if he said so himself.

"There. Done...wait, no...that's a little loose"  
Clive unwound the bandage from Brandon's leg and the proceeded to re-wrap it.  
The young boy winced. Clive decided that he would have to practise tying bandages in future, though he hoped it wouldn't be a skill regularly put to use.  
Glancing at his watch, CLive tipped his hat to Brandon. "Is it night already? Well, goodnight. "  
And with that he left the room.  
The young boy sat up and took a torch from under his pillow. Holding it in his mouth, he undid the bandage. His ankle was swollen, and Brandon prodded it with his finger, unable to resist.  
"Ow!" He exclaimed, covering his mouth soon afterward. Had clive heard?

No, Brandon was in the clear. He knew that his guardian would be furious to find him awake past his bedtime. He quickly wound the length of cloth that served at a bandage back around his foot. The book had fallen on it quite badly, and it was worse when his foot hit the drainpipe when he had climbed out of Clive's bedroom window the other day. Clive was still none the wiser that Brandon had been in his room or that he had the photo album, and the young child intended to keep it that way.

He reached for the book, which now resided under his pillow for lack of a better hiding place. Brandon opened it and wriggled beneath his bed sheets to prevent the glow of the torch escaping and getting his carers attention. He then propped the book against his legs and held the torch in his right hand while turning pages with his left. His right was still bruised from the biscuit tin incident, but it was recovering and didn't hurt.  
The first picture Brandon looked at was of Luke and the professor. He recognised both of the people, wondering how they knew each other and why the man had looked so familiar. He turned the page again. This picture was of a brunette young woman, wearing a low yellow jacket that also served as a skirt and underneath were white leggings. On her feet were boots and in the middle of her chest was a floppy pink bow. Brandon judged his hair against his own. Though it wasn't the exact same shade, there was still the possibility that this was his mother.

Underneath the woman's picture was a photograph of a girl with streaky brown hair and big eyes. She was holding what looked like a tea tray, but what was in the cups that balanced on it was not tea. The filling of the cup seemed to be a lumpy green liquid, possibly cucumber juice...or mucus.

The next page had a picture of a man with hair colour identical to his father's standing with a woman with brown-green hair that curled over her left shoulder. The woman was holding a baby.

Brandon turned the page again, the picture showed the same couple though older. The man now had a beard and the woman's hair was shorter. Though the couple seemed to have aged at least five years or more, the baby in the woman's arms was the same.

"How odd..." Brandon said aloud, closing the book and placing it back under his pillow. The torch was soon moved underneath the pillow to accompany the photo album and Brandon lay there, eyes open, thinking about the pictures he had seen. His eyes slowly closed and he yawned, unintentionally going to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sorry for such a short chapterit writers block, I suppose. Anyway, thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy this uncharacteristically small chapter!**

**please reveiw!**

In his office sat layton, absentmindedly marking his students work. Although he tried to focus, his mind kept on wandering to the events of the past two days. It was unlike him to be so dumbfounded by a puzzle, but he figured that he was just going through the grieving process and couldn't think straight. He ran his fingers through his white hair, then brought his right hand to his temple, his thumb and forefinger massaging it.

Someone knocked at the door. Layton sat up straight.  
"Come in"

"Well well well. If it isn't the great professor, Hershel layton"


	13. Chapter 13

**Who did you think was at the door? Be sure to tell me in the reviews section. It will vibe interesting to see who's on the same page as I am**

* * *

Randall?" Exclaimed Layton. He stared at the balding man before him. Sure enough, it was Randall Ascot standing in his office.  
"Randall... Wha-what are you doing here?"

The professors spectacled friend smiled before answering Laytons question.  
"Well, lets see. I send you a letter three months ago, show up and you ask ME questions?" He scoffed.  
"I would have thought you'd be courteous enough to I thought you were a gentleman! Gentlemen don't ignore their friends! "

Layton stared at his friend, wide-eyed. "Three months? But I received this letter yesterday."

Randall grinned.  
"I know, I just wanted to see your face if I called you ungentlemanly."

Layton sighed.

"So, how're things with you?" Asked Randall.

The school bell rang, signalling the end of the day.

"Shall we continue this conversation in my home?" Inquired layton.  
"Yes. It would be nice to see where you're living now. "

* * *

Layton turned the key in the lock and opened the door, imploring Randall to go in before himself. A gentleman always puts others before himself.  
Randall entered his friends home and stood,taking in the melancholy surroundings. He glanced left and right before walking into the study. Books lay untouched and dusty on the shelves. A photograph lay turned down on the mantelpiece.  
"Who died?" Randall inquired, looking at his friends depressed expression.

"Lu-"  
Layton was cut short by a knock at the front door.  
"Go on! Answer it!" Cried Randall, who's impatience had not subsided with age the way his hair had.  
Sighing, Layton stood and opened the door. There stood Clive, unaccompanied and looking out if breath. He had clearly ran to the professors house.  
" Luke! You've grown!" Was Randall's greeting to him.  
Both the professor and Clive shared a sad look.  
"Hershel, I was hoping to speak with you...

Privately"  
He added the privately while looking Randall in the eye.

"Hmmph. Well, I shan't disturb you, Luke. Hershel, if you don't mind, may I have a look around?"

"Certainly"

Randall left The professor and Clive to talk.

"Who was that, Hershel?"

"A friend. Now, what did you come here to talk about?"


	14. Chapter 14

**'Sup readers?**

**i hope you like this chapter, reason being that I was somewhat unsure about whether it ****_worked_**** or not. But, after some helpful evaluation from a friend, I've decided to post it. **

**Tell me what you think in the reviews section!**

* * *

"This. "  
Said clive, thrusting a newspaper into the professors hands.

"I-I don't..."

"Look closely. "

The professor did as he had been instructed to.  
He stared into the picture on the front page.  
" oh my..."

Clive laughed.

"I know! This is a serious matter, Hershel! Something must be done!"

Layton looked at Clive, their eyes meeting.  
"Clive. As important as this may be, I think there is a problem of greater importance that requires my assistance. "

"Wha-ha ha ha.  
What? Hahaha! What could possib- hahahahaha possibly be more important than- BWAHAHAHAHA!"

Clive could hardly get his words out past the laughter. He found this all so funny.  
So incredibly funny.

Layton continued to stare at Clive as he set him down in the chair. Randall walked in. " what's the joke?" He pondered.

" no joke, Randy. I think Clive is having a flashback"

Randall stopped smiling. Who was Clive? All he could see was Luke.

" It can't end this way!"  
Yelled Clive.

"Hershel! What's going on!? What's wrong with Luke!?"

"IT WON'T END THIS WAY!"

Layton looked at Clive and then back at Randall.

"This isn't Luke, Randall. This is Clive. I met him some twenty years ago when he pretended to be Luke from the future."

The professor's old friend eyed Layton. He then stepped towards Clive, removing Clive's belt and tying it around his hands.  
"What are you doing, Randall?!"

"He's clearly having a mental breakdown. What do you think the flash back is of?"

Hershel looked at his eccentric friend. "I do believe it is from when he managed to destroy half of London. "

"Half of... And you let this madman into your house?!"

Layton thought for a second of the best way to continue the conversation.  
"He was blinded by hate and revenge. Surely you of all people understand that. "


	15. Chapter 15

**Yeah! We're halfway there to flashback #2. Pat yourself on the back for coming this far. Or get someone else to pat you on the back... Heck! Pat a complete STRANGER on the back. **

**Dont look at me like that. . .**

**...why are you leaving?**

* * *

**_WARNING:CONTAINS SPOILER TO MIRACLE MASK. _**

**_READ ANYWAY. _**

Randall gazed at the ceiling recalling his days as the masked gentleman and the manipulation that had caused it.  
He sprang back to life at the sound of Clive's manic laughter growing fainter.  
"Hershel" he began  
"Keep him here and no matter what he says, no matter how much he seems to be back to his normal self, do. Not. Untie. Him. "  
And with that he dashed out of the front door, leaving Hershel to answer "yes" to empty air.

Layton sat down in the chair opposite clive and held the book that Clive had given him in his hands. He began to read it aloud, half-hoping that it would return Clive to sanity though he doubted it.  
Approximately half an hour later, the professor looked up to see that Clive was motionless.  
Layton began to believe that Clive was better, when his assumptions were destroyed by the sound of Clive mumbling  
"But why are you, of all people helping me?" He asked, a hint of self hatred in his voice.  
Layton looked up, listening intently. "He must think he's talking to Claire..."

Clive continued,  
"But don't you know what I did... What I tried to do?"

Layton leant back In his chair. So clive really _Was_ sorry for his actions... Layton made a mental note to talk to Clive once he was out of his current state.

Clive twitched in his slumber and stopped speaking. Layton returned to the book, it was interesting. A diary. Brenda tritons diary. Although he felt rude to be reading such a private confession, his worries subsided when he realised that nothing important was being said, just complaints about her pregnancy. How her back hurt and her ankles were swollen, and how nothing looked good on her anymore.  
Why would Clive claim that such a trivial document would be important.

Then he saw the date scrawled on the top of the page. The diary had been written seven years before Brenda had been pregnant with Luke...

Randall had returned, forty five minutes after leaving. He looked at Clive sleeping peacefully on the chair and that his hands were still bound. There was No way he could do anything that would hurt himself or others.  
"Hershel, how is he?" Asked Randall, bending foreword to peer at the book his friend was reading.  
"Typical you, Hershel. We're in the middle of a crisis and you've got your nose in a book."  
Layton considered making a comment about Randall's nose, but decided it ungentlemanly. Clive stirred and both the ageing men turned their heads in his direction, voicing their concern with their facial expressions.

"Where am I? Oh Hershel, good, it's you...  
Why-why are my hands tied?"


	16. Chapter 16

**I assume you all liked insane Clive. Man, was that scene fun to write! Who here loves Clive's crazy laugh when Layton reveals that Clive isn't really future Luke? yeah, I thought so. We all loved that laugh. **

* * *

Brandon was in the garden playing tennis with the wall. He threw the ball up into the air and whacked it with his racket at the side of the house. He eventually grew tired of his game, and went back inside where he was scolded by the house keeper for tracking mud into the kitchen and was told to go back outside. The young boy did as instructed and returned to the garden.

"Hi"

Brandon turned around to see who had spoken, but there was no one there besides himself.

"I said hi"

Brandon raised his head and walked towards the fence.

"Gettin' warmer"

He continued in the same direction until he reached the end of the garden. He then turned around and walked towards the shrubs. A person could easily hide in there.

"Warmer"

He bent down and began to look through. His hand brushed against something furry.

"Well done. You've found me. "

Brandon's eyes widened as he stared at a large grey rat.

"Wa-was... Was that you?" He asked, fully knowing that it was impossible for animals to talk.

"Too right it was. Just like your father, you are."

Brandon's eyes continued to stare at the fuzzy mammal in front of him.

"ARGHHHHH!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Well well well, it would seem Brandon's more like his dad than I thought. **

* * *

Randall stepped towards layton and began to talk,

"I've just been to the pharmacist, it took me a while seeing as this is my first time in London"

"What ever did you need to visit the pharmacy for, Randall? "

Clive watched the whispering men before him, tilting his head as he tried to read their lips.

"Hersh, I got these" said Randall, withdrawing from his pocket a small container of sleeping pills.

The professor paused to think for a second.

"Randall. You can't be serious-"

Layton stopped whispering. It was rude and Clive deserved to know what they were talking about.

"Randall, you can't just drug him without consent. " he turned to Clive.

"It's ok Hershel. I'm tired anyway. Sleep would do me good, though I must admit your intentions in putting me to sleep are unclear to me"

Randall grinned at his friend. "See?" He went into the kitchen to get a glass of water for Clive to take the pill with.

"Hershel..."

"Yes, Clive?"

"If you wouldn't mind giving me a placebo, I would be most grateful."

"Hmm."

Randall returned again with the water and pills, handing then to Layton.

"Hmmm. Randall," began the professor, inspecting the packaging.

"These aren't quite strong enough. I have some that may be more efficient" he lied, going into the kitchen with the pill.

Once in the kitchen, he took a pinch of salt and stirred it into the water to make it cloudy as though the pill had been crushed and mixed inside.

He then returned with the glass, asking Randall to untie Clive's hands so that he could hold the drink. Layton mouthed "salty" to Clive so that the taste would not come as too much of a shock.

Clive drank the water and placed it on the table next to him. He urged Layton and Randall to sit down so that they could chat. Soon, Clive's words became slurred and his blinks prolonged. He took care to let his head droop as well in order to create the image that he was falling asleep.

"Excuse me a second, Randall" said the professor, helping Clive to stand.

"He'll fall asleep soon, and I'd rather he go upstairs now than me carry him later. I'm getting too old to carry a grown man, after all.

Upstairs, Layton took Clive into Luke's old room, still painted powder blue. He hadn't had the time to redecorate it when Luke had left, and now he couldn't bring himself to.

He set Clive down on the bed.

"You may want to at least try to fall asleep. After what just happened the rest would do you good"

"What do you mean by that,Hershel?"

Layton paused. "I'll tell you later."


	18. Chapter 18

**I would like to thank my friend for getting rid of all the grammatical errors in this chapter. Enjoy. **

Layton returned downstairs and was quite shocked to see Randall suddenly turn around and hold a fencing sabre to his chest. He tossed another to his friend.  
"Fancy one last game?"

The professor chuckled awkwardly, remembering the days of his youth, but that's all it was. Youth. There was no way he could fence at his age. He'd never beaten Randall when he was younger, it would be illogical for him to be able to beat him now.  
Despite this, Layton took the sword and agreed by nodding his head. Both the men lunged forward and backward, dodging each others swords while trying the hit the other. They were both surprisingly agile for men of their age, and after much sword clashing, Randall finally managed to poke Hershel firmly in the chest.

"So Hersh, I suppose this means we'll be doing what I want today. "

Layton straightened up, the last time Randall had said that it had ended in disaster.

He attempted to change the subject.  
"So, what inspired you to write to me?"

Randall thought for a second.  
"I suppose I missed you.  
Anyway, did you solve my puzzle?"

Layton admitted with regret that he hadn't.

Randall smiled. "So, I've got you stumped, mmm?"

The professor nodded his head.

His best friend grinned again.  
"I'm afraid there was no puzzle." Seeing his friends shocked expression he continued.  
"Allow me to elaborate, did I actually _say _that I had included a puzzle? No. I simply stated that I had made one."

The professor contemplated this for a second. He couldn't believe that he hasn't thought of that before.

"And seeing as we're doing what **I** want to do today, will you accompany me to Monte d'or? After all, that's where the puzzle is, and a gentleman leaves no puzzle unsolved.

"Randall, I would love to but I couldn't possibly-"

"Come now, Hersh! I insist! Angela and Henry would be glad to see you again, and seeing as it's the weekend there's nothing you have to do. Surely you don't have to work during the weekend"

Layton looked at his energetic friend.

"Randall, if you please, I would be most enthusiastic to visit you in the city of miracles, but if we may wait a short while. Perhaps a month. I have something to attend to. "

Randall chuckled.

"The great Hershel Layton, on another of his famous mysteries, eh? Accompanied, of course, by his apprentice number one Luke Triton... that reminds me, where is he? Though I don't doubt he's moved out. He would be what, thirty now?"


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm not sure if this scene is too OOC, but I suppose people can change slightly with time, and don't worry, I don't plan to keep Layton in the state of greif he's in now. Also, NEXT CHAPTER IS A FLASHBACK!**

**please reveiw. **

**(:}**

* * *

The professor answered Randall without thinking.  
"Thirty-one"

"Excellent. Surely he'd love to see how monte d'or has grown!"  
He then leant forward and stated with pride "We have a bank now!"

Layton listened to what his friend had told him. He had to tell Randall sometime. But how?  
"Wait here, Randall. I have something I think you should read." The professor picked up the letter that was weighted down by the photograph of Luke that had fallen over. Or rather, that Layton had turned down so that he didn't have to think about the loss of his friend every time he entered the room.  
"What's this, Hersh?" Asked Randall, taking the letter and reading it. His eyes grew wider when he reached the second line.  
"I had... no idea... if I'd known I wouldn't have kept going on about him, I swear! Hersh, I'm sorry, I really am... but shouldn't you be used to this by now?"  
Randall regretted his last sentence. It was inconsiderate and worst of all, true.

Layton was in shock. Had Randall just said what he thought he did?

"Hersh, I didn't mean-"

"No Randall, you were absolutely correct in what you said whether you meant it or not. Eventually, everyone I love or trust ends up leaving me somehow. Either by dying or turning out to be something other than I had thought.  
You died, then, when I finally accepted your death you returned as a villain.  
Claire died, tricked me into believing we could be together again and then died a second time.  
Emmy was evil.  
Flora has left.  
Luke is dead.

My whole _life _was a lie. Hershel? No, try**_ Lappard!_**_"_

And I should, as you say, be used to it by now. "  
The professor stated bitterly.


	20. before 2

**Yo. Hope you enjoyed bitter Layton. And in case you were wondering about Lappard, well, play Azran Legacy when it comes out and all shall be revealed!**

**please reveiw! Give me a reason to keep writing this. No point in writing something if no one wants to read it!**

**(:}**

* * *

_Layton was walking through the park when he spotted someone he recognised._

_Someone with light brown hair, rosy cheeks and minus a hat._

_"Luke!" He called out. "Luke, my boy! How have you been?"_

_Luke looked embarrassed for a second but answered his former mentor. "I'm fine professor. Just fine."_

_The professor smiled. "Perfect my boy. Though I had been beginning to worry, I dare say I haven't seen you in over a year now."_

_Luke smiled, trying to think of an excuse not to talk to the professor. It wasn't that he didn't want to. He just didn't need to. He was in a hurry, but of course he could never tell the professor why._

_"I'm sorry professor, I have to go I'm... busy"_

_Layton nodded. "It's quite alright, my boy. Quite alright. Are you... are you getting over your loss well?"_

_Luke stopped smiling._

_"How did you know she had died?" He asked with a shaky voice._

_"I can see it in your eyes, my boy. But it's fine, I understand. If you ever need to talk, you know where you can find me. "_

_Luke smiled falsely._

_"Thank you, professor."_

_Once the professor had gone, Luke walked towards the post box and pushed a letter through._

* * *

_Clive sat in his cell, thinking. He was in solitary confinement until further notice, which meant that they just wanted to forget about him. Leave him on his own. Clive had no family, no friends, there was no way he could escape from his maximum security cell, and even if he had tried to escape he would just get the death sentence._

_So it came as a surprise when he received a letter. He tore open the packaging, amazed the police hadn't checked it beforehand. Whoever had sent it must have bribed them into leaving it untouched, or even snuck it in._

_His eyes travelled down the several pages included inside the envelope over and over again._

_Could it be true? Was he really going to get out?_


	21. Chapter 21

**Yo dawg. I don't really have anything to say...**

**uh, oh yeah, I'm getting spectres call today, so it might influence me to include a little Descole in the story, but no promises. I've already got a great idea for him that fits and that I suppose is relatively canon, but I don't think I'd be able to do it 'til I get Azran legacy. You know, just to be sure. **

**(:}**

* * *

Clive lay on Luke's old bed and looked around the room. Surprisingly, it wasn't dusty. But if the room was kept aside for Luke, who hadn't used it in at least fifteen years, why was it so tidy? Compared to the rest of the messy house it was practically a hospital!  
Clive smiled gently. The professor may have been messy, but it seemed that he made sure that if Luke ever wanted to visit he'd have a clean and tidy space to stay in.  
That was kind-of sweet, the way the professor looked out for Luke. Pointless, but sweet.

He soon grew tired of laying there, so decided to stretch his legs and have a look around. He silently opened the door and stepped out into the hall. He saw a couple more doors leading into different rooms. The first one he tried was a bathroom, but the young man soon spotted a white door with a poster on it. "Flora" was written in pink on the pale orange paper.  
He opened the door and peeked inside, promptly closing the door again afterwards. So. Much. Pink...  
It had felt like his eyes were bleeding.

He opened another door, this one being the door to the professors room. It had dark brown walls and mahogany furniture. The bed sheets were burnt orange and what Clive found in the wardrobe was somewhat distressing. He had joked with himself at first, expecting to see multiple copies of the same outfit. Instead he saw nothing.  
Did the professor seriously wear the same clothes every day...?  
He closed the wardrobe and exited the room. He was about to return to Luke's when he heard voices downstairs. Curiosity got the better of him, and he walked halfway downstairs then sat down to eavesdrop.

"Hersh, I didn't mean-"

That was the professors friend's voice.

"No Randall, you were absolutely correct in what you said whether you meant it or not. Eventually, everyone I love or trust ends up leaving me somehow. Either by dying or turning out to be something other than I had thought.  
You died, then, when I finally accepted your death you returned as a villain.  
Claire died, tricked me into believing we could be together again and then died a second time.  
Emmy was evil.  
Flora has left.  
Luke is dead.

My whole _life _was a lie. Hershel? No, try**_ Lappard!_**_  
_

And I should, as you say, be used to it by now. "  
The professor stated bitterly.

Clive sat forward in shock. How could the nonchalant professor speak with such...emotion? Clive scolded himself. Of course the professor had feelings. He was only human after all.

"Hersh, what do you mean?

... Look, I'm your best friend, you can always tell me anything! I had no idea you were this..." Randall tried to chose a good, non-offensive word. He decided on upset.

"...I had no idea you were this... disturbed"

_Damn! Damn! Damn!_

"Hersh, that's not, I meant upset..."

The professor lowered his voice and Clive had to go further down the stairs to hear him.

"No Randall. As before, you were right... Except about one thing."

"What's that, Hersh?"

"You are _not_ my best friend."


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey guys. I got like, three comments today! WHOO HOO! New record!**

**so in reply to them, I'm not trying to show Clive in a negative light, just letting you see how hard it is for him to regain everyone's trust. **

**thanks guys. It's nice to know that you like my story. **

**(:}**

**thanks to all that have reviewed. Love ya!**

**(but not it that way...)**

* * *

Randall stormed out.

Clive sneezed.

Layton turned around.

"What the-"

A stern look from Clive prevented the professor from swearing.

"Ahem, how much did you hear?"

Clive smiled. He loved being mysterious.

"Enough. "

Layton sat down in the chair that Clive had been in as little as twenty minutes ago.

"So, what _did_ I do that resulted in you and your frien- erm, visitor tying my hands?"

"You were, well, you had a flashback to... that night. You were talking and laughing and, well, that was it, but I must admit it was quite frightening. "

Clive frowned. Had he really lost it? No, he was perfectly sane. He was just... as that Randall fellow put it, "_disturbed_."

"But it had to have been triggered by something. I wouldn't just go berserk without a reason...would I?"

Layton shook his head and picked up the newspaper that Clive had shown him earlier. "Yes, I'd been thinking about that as well. I think that it was triggered by this picture of Bill Hawks.."

Clive Laughed again when he saw the picture of his nemesis in the paper.

"You call it revenge, but I prefer to think of it as justice... against single minded scientists and..."

"Clive. "

"Eh. Just messing with you."

"Clive, this isn't funny. This is serious. "

Clive shrugged his shoulders. His sense of humour needed some tweaking, he supposed.

"Right-O then, so Hershel, shall we discuss this... abomination? I could make tea"

Layton looked closer at the front page. It was a little hazy but clear enough to read.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes my boy. Tea would be lovely, my boy. But no sugars. I take belle classic, but if you prefer something sweeter, I always keep some oasis berry in the cupboard incase Luke visits..."

"It's ok, Professor. I understand."

Clive ventured into the kitchen leaving the professor to wonder how exactly he and Luke had gotten so close.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey Guys, gals and geese. Wassup? **

**The sky you say?**

**well played, dearie. Well played...**

* * *

Brandon stared at the rat before him. Finally, the shock had worn off and he could be coaxed into a conversation with it.

"H-h-how are you doing that?" He asked it.

"Doin' what?"

"That! Speaking English!"

The rat laughed- or at least, it looked like a laugh. Brandon wasn't particularly sure.

"I ain't speakin' English! You're talking rat!"

" well of course you aren't speaking English! Not with grammar like that but... Wait, what?"

"You. Are. Speakin'. Rat.

Geez. An' 'umans are spose teh be smart. Well you gots me fooled, you 'ave "

Brandon tied very hard to process the last five minutes. It was hard, but he finally came to a conclusion. This was all a dream.

"I've got it! This is just a dream!"

"Bah!" Came the rats reply.

"Nah mate, this is all very real, right? Just ask anyone 'bout yer dads little _talent_.

Well, not anyone obviously. But yer know, some'un close teh 'im. Like 'is mates or whatnot.

Well? Go on then- oh an' one more thang, don't go speakin' tuh no **_doves_**now, yuh hear? They're bad folk, they are. Real dangerous. Stay away from any _**dove**_ you meet, 'Kay?"

And with that the rat scuttle off into the bushes.

_There's something suspicious about this, _thought Brandon.

Other than the fact the creature could talk, there was something odd about it.

It seemed to know him and his father, and there was something about the way it said dove.

Dove ... Clive Dove! Dove was Clive's surname! Brandon resolved to keep an eye on his guardian from now on, as well as keep out of his way as much as possible.


	24. Chapter 24

**Someone, yes you are right. However, I think by using the plural he was saying dove but meaning Clive so that Brandon would have to work out what he was hinting at.**

or he just doesn't like birds...

**Also: I have drawn a new cover image for the story. It's got all the characters on it. (:} **

* * *

Layton sipped the tea that Clive had made him.

"Mmm. So, i see that Bill Hawks is retiring from his seat in parliament. Frankly I don't understand how he managed to keep it after he lost his role of prime minister for fraud."

Clive's fists were clenched and white.

"Clive, this isn't... Upsetting for you, my boy?"

Shaking his head, Clive replied. " no. It's good news that that madman no longer has influence over our country, however that was not the part of the paper that I wished you to focus on. "

He traced the outline of the picture on the paper with his forefinger, finally bringing it down to rest on a couple standing in the background.

" th-those are my... My p-parents..."

"Now Clive, you know full well that..."

" No Hershel. These are my parents. I didn't remember heir faces until I saw this morning's paper. I mean, I _knew_. I knew that this was them. I'm sure of it. And it gets worse. "

"Hmm?"

Clive turned the page to where Luke stood in the background.


	25. Chapter 25

**We are once again again half way there to a flashback. So how about I ask YOU, yes you to choose. What do you want to see? Clive meeting adult Luke for the first time? Luke's death? Luke an his fiancée? Baby Brandon and Luke? Monte d'or opening a new bank? Go on. Choose. I'll pick one of your ideas to be the next one. Not be because I'm out of ideas. The previous few sentences proved that I have many ideas. I just thought maybe you'd like a choice. **

**:)**

* * *

Layton nearly fell off of his chair. "Surely they... ahem. Well they can't... There has to be a plausible explanation. "

Clive decided that it was the right time to chime in his theory.

"Yes, well. While I was on the way here I managed to come up with a few explanations myself. Care to hear them?"

"That would be helpful. "

Clearing his throat, Clive went through several possibilities.

1) The images in the picture were still alive.

2) they were ghosts.

3) the newspaper companies wanted to fill out the picture with more of a crowd, so they inserted pictures of people from past issues into the photograph.

Layton considered what Clive had said. Though the concepts were fairly obvious and there could only be one answer, he went through them all aloud.

"Hmm. I'm sorry to disappoint you my boy, but the people in these photographs couldn't possibly be alive. Using your parents as an example, they would have aged a fair bit but they appear to be what they would have been thirty years ago.

Which brings us to your second idea. The people in this picture could not have been ghosts. For starters, the couple you describe as your parents seem to be standing in front of something- or rather, someone. And that someone, is you."

The professor pointed at Clive dramatically,who in turn leant forward to peer at the picture.

" you're right... that's me, I could recognise myself anywhere, wait... what's that I'm holding?"

Clive held the paper to his face." It's string...we must have been at the fair... yes, we were at the fair and had our photograph taken for the papers there. It was so exiting...for the next week at school it had been as though I were famous!

Sorry Hershel. You probably didn't want to hear about a silly little memory like that. " Clive blushed slightly as he handed his paper back to the older man.

"No Clive. In fact, I would be glad to hear them more often. It means that you're coming back into your own. Becoming your own self again, which is brilliant to help you get over what happened"

Clive looked at the professor, his eyebrows in their usual slanted downward position.

"What? You think other things have happened in my life? That I spend all day thinking about that day?"

"No I merely meant to say-"

"Never mind. Do continue with your analysis of the picture"

Layton balled up a hand and rested his chin on it as he spoke.

"Ahem...yes. Well. Seeing as you are in the picture, that eliminates both of the previous theories, concluding that someone added a few characters to the background. " Layton poked at each of the added characters with his famous finger.

"Well, you seem to have sorted this out. And just when it was worrying me. "

"Indeed, Clive. Well, I suppose you should return home to Brandon before it gets late. How long was he alone?"

"Two hours. I never leave him for longer than he can look after himself for."

Layton smiled. Perhaps your return would be more prompt if you had a car.

Clive looked at his feet. "Yes, well. Erm, a car isn't exactly what I plan to buy...not yet."

"I thought you were rich, or did you spend it all on building 'future London' and getting out of jail?"

" must you continue to dwell on the past, Layton?" This was a name used normally by enemies of the professor, and Clive chose to use it to show that he was not happy.

"Sorry if I overstepped my mark. But until you see fit to buy a car, I insist that you borrow mine" The professor dug the keys to the laytonmobile out of his pocket and tossed them to the middle aged man before him.

"I..."

"I'm sure you'll be fine, Clive. She is my pride and joy and has served me well in the past."

"I...uh, thank you Hershel. I'll take good care of it- her."

Clive left Layton and climbed into the car. He was so touched by the professors kindness that he had neglected to tell him that he had never learnt to drive.


	26. Chapter 26

**Someone:  
Heh heh. Yes. Yes I'm a very fast updator.  
I actually haven't played the first two games. But I've played the third and the fifth and I'm currently playing the fourth.  
In answer to you, thanks. I'll add one mark to my tally for Luke meeting Clive.  
And I agree that no one in their right mind would name their kid anton, but I googled the answer and his name is Anthony Herzen.**

* * *

Clive got out of the car. It had been hard, but he managed to get safely home despite never having driven a car before in his life. Well that wasn't exactly the case, there was that one time... he shuddered and shook the thought from his head.

"Brandon! I'm home!" His greeting reached empty air.

He ventured upstairs into Brandon's room where the boy was sitting on his bed with his back to the door.

"Brandon? Why didn't you answer?"

Brandon growled and pushed something under the bed before turning around.

"I-er, I didn't hear you. " he lied. He had heard him just fine.

Clive sat cross legged on Brandon's bed. "Are you ok? I could have sworn I heard you growl. "

Brandon's face went bright red. "That wasn't me! It was... Umm, me."

"Ok...well, I don't think we talk enough. I've known you since you were a baby but I still don't _know_ you.

Brandon shifted uncomfortably. "Is your real name dove?"

"Hmm? Well, I don't remember my birth name, but, yes. I suppose it is, legally speaking. But back to you, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Brandon answered almost immediately.

"A scientist or politician- or both!"

Clive took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

He had been hoping for footballer or astronaut but scientist? Politician?

Then he got an idea.

"Why don't you be an archaeologist?"


	27. Chapter 27

**Come on guys. Tell me what you want in the reviews! I need to know which of the flashbacks you want to see in three chapters time!**

* * *

Brandon thought hard about what Clive had said. He didn't quite understands the big word and asked him about it.

"Hmm. Ask the professor."

Brandon growled again.

"Erm sorry. That was... my stomach. So what exactly do arky-olygests _do_?"

Clive frowned and tried to think of a way to explain it in a way understandable to children.

" They look at rocks. "

"Is that all?" Asked Brandon who was clearly dissatisfied by the answer.

Clive, not wanting to disappoint the young boy, continued his explanation. "They also discover things about the past, like dinosaurs. They search for them and dig them up. "

Brandon perked up slightly.

"That sounds fun. Hey Clive, do you-do you think there's a dinosaur in the garden?"

Clive had to stop himself making a sarcastic comment.

_Yes. There are, I know the garden seems too small for one, but dinosaurs are buried standing up. You'd be able to fit about five in the garden! _

Instead he settled for "maybe".

Brandon growled again.

"Uh, sorry... I've got a bad throat." He coughed into his hand.

Clive nodded his head and got up to get the boy some water. He decided to talk to the doctor in the morning.


	28. Chapter 28

**Look, i have had like, TWO VOTES. that sir, is an even number which means no one has won the vote yet. Can you please Please please help out and tell me what you want. By the rate I'm going, chapter thirty would be today, but I'll save it until tomorrow to give you some time to vote. You don't have to log on to review. Just do it. **

**And one vote per person!**

**In reply to someone's reveiw: I haven't heard his voice (yet) and also I haven't got a clue what you just said so ill just nod politely and pretend I did.  
And yes, I like to think Clive would be the sarcastic type. **

* * *

****

As soon as Clive was gone, Brandon leant over the edge of his bed.  
"You can come out now."

A skinny grey puppy with a fuzzy head and neck clamboured out and was picked up by Brandon who placed him gently on the bed.  
"Why did you keep growling like that! You could've got found! Now, what did you need me to help you with?"  
Brandon's tone of voice was aggressive. He remembered something about having to talk to dogs like you're angry so that they know whose boss.  
"I-I-I lost my parents"

Brandon sighed and looked at the puppy. It's cute eyes drawing him in, he was about to answer when he spotted the dogs ear.

"Why is your ear all...shiny?"

He patted the dog's metallic ear. "Does it hurt?"

The puppy wriggled away.

"No, my owner gave it to me. But it's broken, otherwise he'd know where I was."

"So it's a tracking device? Cool!"

The small dog scratched at its ear with it's paw.

"And its how he talks to us. He made them himself 'cause he's a scientist!"

Brandon's smile grew. This dogs owner had to be the coolest man alive.

"If I helped you find him and your parents...do you think he'd maybe talk to me?"

The dog shook his fluffy head.

"He's a bit of a loner."

Brandon smiled to himself. A loner scientist who loved dogs? The man was officially now his idol.

"Does he like cars and robots. You know, mechanical stuff? "

The dog on his bed shook his head. Brandon remembered what Clive had said.

"What about archeo-archeol- arkaly- erm, arky-olygy?"

The tiny puppy shook its head again for yes as the door opened. Brandon threw the blanket over it to prevent Clive from seeing it.

"Clive?"

The man sat down on the bed and gave Brandon the water. "Yes"

"I thought about what you said. " he replied, taking a sip. " I want to be an arky-olygist/ scientist."

Clive shrugged. It was better than scientist/politician he supposed. He stood and told Brandon to go to bed, taking the empty cup and returning downstairs.

"Ok, starting tomorrow we look for your family"

The puppy wagged its tail.

"Thankyou... I don't know your name!"

Brandon giggled.

"I don't know yours either! I'm Brandon."

"I actually don't _have_ a name."

"That's ok! I could name you! What about jean. That's a good boy name."

The puppies tail wagged.

"You're defiantly going to like my owner- but he doesn't want to name us."

Brandon shrugged as Clive had done a minute ago.

"Well you aren't MY dog, so I suppose I'd best just leave you nameless."

Brandon lay down in bed and went to sleep. It was safe to sleep now. He had his new friend protecting him.


	29. Chapter 29

**Ok boys and girls. This is the last chapter before the next flashback. However, I'm gonna need your help with this one, seeing as there is currently a draw between Luke's death and Monte D'or's new bank. Bear in mind this: all of the flashback choices will be used eventually, so you aren't really missing out but you choose. Do you want Luke's depressing death or Monte D'or's comic relief? You decide!**

**On another note, who "got" what i was talking about with the puppy. Tell me who you think his owner is in the reviews, along with your flashback vote!**

**In reply: thank you to guest and the funyaripa for your votes and stuff. Much obliged!**

**On with the story:**

* * *

Randall sat on the train leading into Monte D'or, his head resting on the window.

He was regretting his fight now, he'd said stuff he didn't mean and so had Layton.

At least, he _hoped_ his friend hasn't meant what he'd said...

Of course Hershel was going to be upset and lonely, but as a friend Randall should have been there for him, been understanding and caring. But of course, Randall always did have a habit of making mistakes.

Exploring those ruins being one of them, but if he hadn't they wouldn't have created Monte D'or.

And Trusting that "Descole" fellow and becoming the masked gentleman, but if he hadn't he would never have recovered his memories.

It seemed that all of his mistakes rectified themselves in the end. Randall could only hope that his latest mistake would follow the pattern.

* * *

Layton sat in his study, calmer after his seventh cup of tea...or was it his tenth? He'd lost count a while ago. He just kept drinking it. After all, tea made everything better. Tea was his salvation.

Or rather, a distraction.

He set down his empty cup and glanced at the grandfather clock. It was nine O'clock. He decided to go to bed, but once he was he couldn't sleep. He just couldn't stop thinking about his argument with Randall. They were best friends. They should be able to forgive each other after silly tiffs, and it wasn't like Randall hadn't apologised. Layton wondered whether or not he should visit Monte D'or. He had missed his childhood friends, but would Randall ever bring himself to forgive him? All these thoughts went through the professors mind as he lay there.

He couldn't think straight if he was tired, so he decided to at least _try_ and get some sleep.

* * *

Clive wondered what had been going on with the professor as he poured Brandon a glass of water. It wasn't like him to be affected by what other people said. But then again, he supposed that Randall guy had crossed the line, even if he hadn't meant it.

Oh well, it was the professor's problem, not his.

He made his way up the stairs but stopped outside Brandon's door. He could hear a voice and...barking. What was up with his throat? He opened the door and saw Brandon sitting on his bed with an air of innocence.

Brandon said that he wanted to be a scientist/archaeologist. It was better than scientist/politician, he supposed. He checked his watch and told Brandon to go to sleep. He left the room but stood outside the door. He was sure Brandon was talking, but who to? He peeped through the crack in the door. He could only see the small boy. He seemed a little old for an imaginary friend...

Clive dismissed his worries and went downstairs. He picked up the newspaper and began to cut around the picture of his parents before folding up the photograph and placing it in his pocket. He returned upstairs and gently placed the picture in the drawer in his bed. It was his own little hiding place where he could keep it safe. No one but him knew about it and that was the way it was going to remain...but then he noticed that something was missing. The book he had confiscated from Brandon.

"_Damn_. "


	30. Before 3

**Dang. **

**JUST. DAAAAANG.**

**Seriously guys, a draw? Oh well. I just suppose that means I'll have to do both of the winners. Enjoy.**

**And in reply to guest and Elizadescole: yep. You have guessed correctly... Or have you? **

**Lol just kidding. You have. But I may not add descole in person for a while. i still need to suss him out. You know, finish spectres call ( I'm nearly done, honest) are watch the last few cutscenes from miracle mask and watch eternal diva over and over and over and over and over and over and over. . .**

**oh, and play Azran legacy. heh heh heh :/**

* * *

_Randall stood in front of the new building, his usual smirk replaced with a friendlier smile as he cut the ribbon with a pair of large novelty scissors while wondering where the heck Henry had acquired such a weird utensil. He made a long speech, valuing his moment in the limelight before declaring the bank open. Angela congratulated him on his speech while Henry stood there silently, nodding accordingly at intervals in the conversation. _

_"So master Henry, what did you think?"_

_Henry frowned. "Henry, master Randall. Just Henry."_

_Randall laughed. He had taken to calling his friend "master Henry" to annoy him, and every single time it worked. _

_Angela punched him in the arm playfully. _

_"Leave him alone, bratscot!"_

_"Seriously? Bratscot? 'The amazing Randall' suits me better than that old nickname."_

_"Well I think it suits you perfectly. So what should we do today, just us four?"_

_Randall looked puzzled. _

_"Four..?"_

_Henry coughed the word "nose"_

_"Angela!"_

* * *

_"He's awake, but he won't be for long. "_

_Clive looked from the doctor who had just spoken to his friend. _

_Luke lay in bed, his eyes closing and his heartbeat slowing drastically. _

_"Clive..." He muttered, struggling to get the words out. _

_"Clive...take these..." His hand trembled as he fumbled in his pocket for something. _

_He withdrew a handful of letters, bunched together and slightly crumpled. _

_"Luke, what are these..?"_

_Luke inhaled deeply in concentration. "My will and...everything you need...I've got it all sorted..."_

_Clive shook his head furiously, tears welling up in his eyes. "No! Take them back. I don't need this because you aren't going to die!"_

_Luke smiled knowingly and closed his eyes slowly, the beeping of the hospital equipment he was attached to slowed. _

_"No Luke, Stop! Don't close those eyes! Don't die! Please! Please don't die!"_

_A doctor rested his hand on Clive's shoulder, but he shook him off and marched out of the ward where he bumped into Brandon. _

_"Is...is he ok now? Can I see him?"_

_Clive kneeled down to the small boy's level, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. _

_"I...I don't...I can't explain... He's...he's gone and...and he can't come back."_

_Brandon looked at Clive innocently. "Gone where?"_

_Clive tried to think of a way to explain it. _

_"You know your mum?"_

_Brandon shook his head and clive remembered that Brandon had never known his mother and never would. _

_"No, I mean...you know that she isn't...with us anymore?"_

_The small boy nodded. He knew all too well. _

_"Well, your dad...he's with _her_ now."_

_Brandon couldn't stop the river of tears that came after he he heard those words. _

_His dad was...dead..._

_He grabbed Clive and sobbed onto his shoulder. _

_"That's it, Brandon. Let it out, it's ok, I'm here..."_


	31. Chapter 31

**Thirty one, guys. That's a lot considering its been what, two weeks or so since I started?**

**Right on. **

**So about the flashback, curious about Luke dying? good.**

**And also: YAY! A NOSE JOKE!**

**So, were you happy with the flashback? Be sure to let me know in the **

**。、。****ReVeIwS。、。**

**In reply to someone, I'm trying to do it a bit like the game where something happens but it takes a little while for you to find out so your questions will be answered in due time. After all, I can't reveal everything at once, where's the fun in that?**

* * *

Clive sat at the dining table but ate nothing as he watched Brandon consume his bacon and eggs.

"_Brandon, have you been in my room?"_

Brandon pushed away his plate and looked up at the man seated opposite him.

"No." He lied, fiddling with his toast by tearing it up into little pieces.

Clive looked at him, trying to get him to look him in the eyes. Considering the fact that he was ten, if he could look him in the eye and lie then he was either innocent or just a really good liar.

"Brandon, look at me. "_Did you go in my room_?"

"No, I didn't."

Brandon's heart was racing. He had never outright _lied_ before. Of course, he'd denied things like snacking before dinner and such, but he'd never actually told a lie. Part of him expected his nose to grow, he was afraid Clive would notice that he wasn't telling the truth, but due to Brandon's calm and innocent expression he didn't.

Clive waved his hand in dismissal. "Splendid. You can go now, if you want. "

The small boy nodded his head. "I'll just take my plate to the sink-"

Clive looked down at the dish in Brandon's hands.

"You didn't eat all of your bacon-and you haven't touched your sausage at all. Are you sure all you want for breakfast is an egg and a slice of toast?"

"Yes" Brandon nodded, rushing his plate to the kitchen and there he proceeded to scoop the untouched meat into a bowl. He got another empty bowl and filled it with water before carrying them both upstairs.

Once in his room he set the two bowls on the floor and whistled. Out from under his bed came the small dog who lapped the gift up graciously.

"So can we start looking now?"

Brandon smiled as he answered yes. He opened the door and slid down the banister instead of using the stairs lest they creak. The dog at his heels, he made his way out of the back entrance before Clive would know that he was gone. From there, he ventured into the garden but saw Clive looking out of the window and hid in a bush.

"Great, how are we going to get out? He's looking at the gate!"

Brandon's new friend thought for a moment an hen began to turn around, quietly barking for Brandon to follow him.

They crawled under the bushes that acted as a hiding place and the shrubs that went around the garden. Brandon watched as the puppy slid through a whole in the garden wall.

"I can't fit through there!" He protested, checking to see if Clive had heard him.

"Then go over"

Brandon followed the dog's suggestion and it worked rather well, except his leg and hand still hurt, so getting up onto the wall was hard.

He stood, both of them now out of the garden. They walked around the front of the house to the where the laytonmobile was perched on the drive.

"So I found you under here..." he said, gesturing to the car " so this area should be the first place we look."

The puppy shook his fluffy head. He remembered the boy walking past him to get the mail the other day and seeing him shivering under the car. He was glad he had helped him and took him inside with promises to find his parents, but he would still rather be with his family and eagerly sniffed around.

It was hopeless.

"Can we go to where I got lost? It's down here!"

The puppy ran down the hill and into the forest that surrounded a lake. Sighing, Brandon followed him.

_He's a little fast for a dog_ he thought to himself while trying to keep up.


	32. Chapter 32

**Yo, not much to say... I just finished Spectres call...and drew stuff...**

***ahem* on with the story. **

* * *

_"So I'm going to have him adopted. Clark doesn't even need to know, seeing as I went to stay with my sister as soon as I couldn't hide my bump. I'll be going into labour soon, I just know I am, mothers intuition, I suppose. _

_I would have told him, really I would, but just as I was about to Clark started talking about how we should be careful and not have kids until he had a steadier job and such. _

_He has such bad timing, but I need to stop writing now, for I think I'll soon begin giving birth to the son I'll never know. Maybe labour won't start today. Maybe tomorrow or the day after, but I should really get to the hospital just in case. There's already a couple ready to take the baby of my hands. I wish them the best of luck."_

The professor closed the diary. So Luke had had an elder brother. Clive.

It all made much more sense now. Luke and Clive were related, which explained their resemblance, and once they had found out they must have decided to spend more time together.

It also explained the offhand comment Clive had made about "practically being Brandon's uncle. "

He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it earlier. It all seemed so obvious now. He had overlooked the answers to two puzzles lately. He wasn't himself. He was sad and confused and nostalgic all at once, not to mention the mixed feelings he held for both Randall and Clive in turn.

The professor stood and walked outside, eager to return the book to Clive when he realised that he had lent Clive his car. He couldn't walk all the way to Luke's house on foot. Not at his age.

There was only one option. The train.

* * *

After buying a ticket, the professor smiled fondly as he remembered the adventures he and Luke had had that had started on a train. He found himself a seat by the window and looked outside at the landscape that blurred past.

Finally, after forty-five minutes he was at his destination. He stepped out and walked briskly towards Luke's old home.


	33. Chapter 33

**So sorry for not updating yesterday. I was tired and didn't know what to write. Sorry!**

**And over a thousand views! Yayyyyy!**

* * *

Layton was about to knock on the door when he saw Brandon running down a hill, presumably chasing something.

"Lost your ball, my boy?" He asked.

Brandon stopped and after cautiously turning his head in the direction of the puppy, he walked towards him.

"No, Clive's just sent me out for groceries."

The professor peered down the hill.

" Why where you going that way. I had presumed that the market place in this town is in that direction." He turned around and pointed east.

Brandon told Layton that he was just taking the scenic route and walked down the hill calmly, trying not to arise suspicion by running.

The professor knocked on the door and was soon greeted by Clive.

"Hello Hershel. To what do I owe your visit?"

Layton passed him the book.

"Here...Clive how could I have not even _suspect_ that you and Luke were related? It seems so much more...obvious now."

Clive invited him inside with an apologetic smile.

"It's ok, I didn't even believe Luke until I thought about it a bit more."

The professor smiled to himself. So _Luke_ had been the one who tried to find out why he and Clive looked o alike. It looked as though Luke had taken it on board when the professor used to say "There is no puzzle without an answer."

Clive was returning the book upstairs to its usual hiding place when he got an idea. The professor was a splendid puzzle solver, maybe he'd be able to tell if Brandon had taken the book or not.

"Brandon!" He called once in the hallway. "Come here, we have a guest."

Brandon didn't reply and Clive went into his room where he received a shock. Brandon wasn't there.

He returned downstairs.

"Is everything alright, my boy? You look a little pale. "

Clive smiled at the professor. "No I'm fine, I just can't see him anywhere."

The professor frowned, recalling when he had arrived at the house and seeing Brandon.

"So you didn't send him to the shops?"

Clive chuckled uncertainly. "Where the blazes did you get that idea? The housekeeper does the shopping"

Layton told Clive what had happened and Clive soon shot out of the door, followed by the professor.

* * *

After talking to the professor and continuing down the hill, Brandon found himself in the forest situated at the bottom of it.

The young boy regretted not naming his canine friend, as he now had no way of calling him.

After thinking back to previous conversations he decided what to do.

"Jean!" He shouted at the top of his voice.

* * *

On the other side of the forest, a tall, slim man turned around, his cape blowing gently in the wind.

_Did I just hear...?_

After convincing himself that it had been nothing, he continued towards his destination.

* * *

**Hey, thought I'd do an authors note: don't expect loads of Descole right now, I need to suss him out before I can write his character. **

**Delicious...**


	34. Chapter 34

**Thank you guest for Your reveiw. Although I don't own miracle mask (yet) I played my brothers and I'm currently watching Descole cutscenes on YouTube. **

**Thanks for taking the time to review. **

* * *

"Jean!" Called Brandon again.

"Uh, puppy! dog! fuzz-ball!"

A familiar canine emerged from a bush with a white feather hanging from his mouth.

"look what I found!" He cried with elation.

Brandon couldn't understand how a feather could make his new friend so happy.

"It belongs to my master!" The puppy said, dropping the feather at Brandon's feet.

The boy picked it up and inspected it carefully, squinting just a bit as he held it up to the light.

"Your master was a bird?" He asked.

The dog laughed. "No, it's from his...neck-thing. It's fluffy and white and he wears it around his neck."

Brandon thought for a second.

"He wears a feather boa?

Anyway, lets see if we can find some more, we could search for clues and be detectives."

And with that they both scouted around the forest, looking for anything that could be a clue.

Brandon picked up a twig.

" Ah, this must have fallen to the ground when he was fighting the dinosaurs."

The puppy tilted his head. "Dinosaurs?"

Sighing, Brandon replied.

"Of COURSE there were dinosaurs. Everyone knows that arky-olygists fight dinosaurs!"

The puppy sniffed around before stopping.

"I found some material!"

Brandon laughed a little.

"Don't be silly, ANYONE could have dropped that."

"But it matches his cape."

Brandon picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Ok, so what else can we find-"

"BRANDON!"

The boy turned around to see Clive and the professor.

Both of them looked worried and out of breath.

"What on earth do you think you were doing?! Why did you sneak off!? Who were you talking to!? Answer me, Brandon!"

Brandon shrugged. Clive had spoken without thinking, and voicing his worries in such a way had caused his voice to be fast and illegible. The professor stepped forward, having seen the puppy scamper away when they arrived.

"Did you know, my boy, that your father had a rather... unique gift?"

Brandon looked at the kindly man.

_He doesn't know anything about my father!_ He thought.

"I'll take your silence as a 'yes' " continued Layton. "However I think I should explain, even if only for Clive's benefit. You see, for reasons unbeknownst to me, your father could understand and converse with animals. I also have reason to believe that his father was also in possession of this talent, as I would sometimes hear him talking but the only other living thing present would be some form of animal."

Clive looked at the professor.

"I believe I already knew of this, Hershel."

Layton smiled. "Yes Clive, I don't doubt that you did. After all, you had to do quite a bit of research on Luke if your rouse as his future self were to be believable. But there is one fact that appears to be missing from your extensive knowledge of my former apprentice."

"Hmm? And what would that be, Hershel?"

Layton continued with his explanation.

"If Clark, Luke and Brandon can all converse with animals, then it would seem safe to assume that the talent is passed from father to son gene-wise. So the question is, why do you not have the same skill?"

Clive nodded his head in agreement.

"A most interesting observation, Hershel. But did it ever occur to you that the certain gene of which you speak simply skipped past me? There is no law saying that the genetic makeup must be the same for all of the males in a particular family."

Brandon interrupted their conversation.

"Excuse me, but what if Clive and my father didn't have the same dad?."

He stood proudly, watching the two men consider his point. He knew it wasn't true of course, but it was fun to watch the men be so puzzled.

The reason he knew it wasn't true was that one of the two photographs of the young couple had had writing on the back,

_"Clark visited today. It was unexpected to say the least as I had just given birth to our son whom I had tried so desperately to hide from him. He's smarter than he seems, apparently he worked out what had happened and wanted to see the child before I sent it away. _

_...Before I sent __**you**__ away. I expect you won't read this until your adoptive parents see fit, but know that we love you, son. Know that we love you and that we wish it hadn't been this way."_

Clive hadn't gotten the photograph until Luke had dug up his old adoption folder just a few years ago, and it had came with the diary of his real mother Brenda so that he would know exactly why his parents had abandoned him.

"No, Brandon. Clark was both mine and Luke's father. The gene just skipped me, that's all- but why are we talking about me, Hershel? What about Brandon who we have just found _talking to himself_ in the forest?"

Layton chuckled.

"Don't you see, my boy? Brandon wasn't talking to himself. He was talking to an animal."

Both Clive and Brandon decided that even with age the professor had not lost his skills of deduction.

"Now my boy, what kind of animal were you talking to exactly?"


	35. Chapter 35

**Hey. Sorry if the previous chapter was a little...long winded. **

**Anyway, onwards we go!**

* * *

"I...I was talking to...a dog. "

Brandon looked at the professor's blank expression. He found it unsettling that the man hardly ever showed emotion.

"I couldn't help but notice someone had shouted 'jean'. Was that you Brandon?"

Brandon decided to answer the professor.

"Yes. That's what I wanted to call the dog, well, either that or Simon."

The young boy looked at the professor's worried expression inquisitively.

"That's an odd name for a young boy to choose." The professor finally stated.

Brandon shrugged his shoulders and turned to Clive, who hadn't spoken for a while. He seemed preoccupied, nervously watching a bird circling them from above. Brandon assumed that Clive was sensitive about the fact that he hasn't inherited the family talent and decided to at least try and cheer him up. He whistled, calling the bird down.

Both the professor and Clive stepped back as the mighty bird of prey perched itself on a branch near them and Brandon began to converse with it.

"Hmm. Ok, Clive, professor, this is Bill. He's a hawk."

Clive turned around and walked away leaving a concerned professor and confused Brandon behind.

"Professor, what's wrong with-"

Layton silenced Brandon by patting him on the back and guiding him back home. Brandon tentatively checked that the dog was still there every now and again, and soon realised

that it was following a few meters behind them , keeping to the shadows.

Layton had left after a short talk with Clive, leaving him and Brandon alone bar a few maids.

"I'll see you in the morning." Mumbled the elder of the duo. "I'm going to bed early tonight, but I expect you to be in bed at the usual time of eight PM, is that clear?"

Brandon nodded in agreement and watched Clive climb the stairs before going to the back door to let his friend back in. They both snuck upstairs into Brandon's room in silence where they looked through the photo album.


	36. Chapter 36

**Apologies for my short-lived hiatus. I needed some time to consider possibilities for the story. Needless to say I was at a loss for a plot that made sense. I suppose that's what I get for writing as I go along, instead of planning it like good writers do. **

* * *

Over the next few days, Clive and Brandon hardly spoke. Brandon avoided his guardian and either stayed in his room or snuck out.

Clive didn't know how to deal with his nephew's refusal to communicate with him, but decided that he could work out the answer to the problem eventually.

The thing that irritated him the most was that Brandon hadn't given a reason for his actions, or rather, for his lack of actions.

After a week of silence, Brandon came downstairs to talk to Clive.

"Clive can we talk? I won't take up too much of your time, I promise."

With a nod of his head and a warm smile, Clive invited Brandon to sit next to him and agreed to talk.

Brandon was shaking slightly and he kept shuffling in his seat uncomfortably.

"What did you want to talk about, Brandon?"

The boy looked up, startled to hear his uncle speak but upon remembering that he had invited him to do so calmed down.

"Is it true that you...that you were a..."

Clive had a vague idea of where the conversation was going an nodded his head.

Brandon looked at Clive as though he were a stranger.

"You...you're a murder! You destroyed people's homes! You killed people!"

Clive was a little taken aback at the child's abruptness but nodded again looking at the floor, refusing to make eye contact.

Brandon stood up. "I don't want you to be my guardian anymore." He stated.

" I've been thinking a lot, and I've decided that I...that I can't... trust you."

Clive lifted his head, staring at the boy in front of him.

He couldn't understand what Brandon meant by not being able to trust him. He had committed terrible crimes against humanity that was for sure, but he had never laid a finger on his nephew. The only things he had ever done for Brandon were out of love and care. He had spent more time with him than Luke had.

"Brandon I can assure you that I would never do anything to hurt anyone ever again. I swear!" He stood up and faced the child, placing a hand on his shoulder. Brandon shook it off and turned around.

"I can't believe what you did, Clive. I can't...nothing could justify that! So what if your parents died? It's life, move on! You didn't need to dwell on it forever! You could have done so much but you ruined your life because of one thing!"

Clive stood in silence. His arms hung limply by his sides as he stared at his nephew, the boy he had practically treated as a son his entire life was now ranting at him for something that was none of his concern.

"Brandon, my parents dying was...an unbelievable shock. I lost everything because of one man's greed. I wasn't thinking straight, common sense replaced by anger."

Brandon started to walk away.

" At least your parents weren't killed on purpose like the people you killed." He whispered, returning to his room.

* * *

"I can't believe I just said all of that," Brandon began

" I don't even believe that he could have done such a thing, how could he have done such a thing?"

Brandon soon realised that his canine friend had fallen asleep before he came in. The young boy picked up an old newspaper and stared at it. How could his own flesh and blood do something so...wrong, no. Evil. That's what Clive had done. Something evil. All those lives ruined. It didn't matter that he had rebuilt the homes destroyed by his vengeful actions, most of the former residents no longer had use for them.

He put the paper onto his desk and flopped onto bed, careful not to wake the dog napping precariously at the very edge of it. He soon fell asleep, and slept until morning.

* * *

Clive considered all that Brandon had said to him. Shaking his head, he walked upstairs, stopping in front of an open door. It had been Luke's study, and no one had dared enter it after his passing. Due to his natural curiosity that he kept from his days as a journalist, he stepped inside, wondering why the door had been ajar.

He saw newspapers strewn all over the floor. Picking one up, he saw that this must have been where Brandon had gotten the information about his past, and he sighed as he put the archive of London times back into their box and closed the door, still curious as to why Brandon would go into his fathers old study.

Little did he know, Brandon spent a lot of time in there, just thinking and regretting that he would never see his father again. It was a depressing thought that frequented the boy'a mind.


	37. Chapter 37

**Not much to say today...**

**Oh yeah! I wrote a one shot yesterday, its called forced opinions. Thank you to Maict for reviewing it and anyone else who finds it in their heart to do so. **

**Rock on!**

* * *

Two days had passed since Brandon's speech, and though he didn't completely ignore Clive, he at least acknowledged his existence.

"About what you said before, Brandon. Who would you preferable guardian be?"

Brandon looked up from the toast he had been silently chewing. It was true that he had thought about it, but he didn't know. Luke had hardly been a sociable person. In fact, Brandon didn't even know if he had any other relatives.

"Well, Brandon?"

Sighing, Brandon admitted that he had no idea. He proceeded to ask if he had any family.

"Do I have any aunts?"

Clive shook his head.

"What about cousins?"

Clive laughed. "Does it look like I have kids?"

Brandon wracked his brain for another option, finally finding one.

"What about Grand-parents?"

Clive found himself laughing again, but suppressed it, disguising it as a cough.

"I-ahem- I don't know about that. They put me up for adoption when I was born and let Luke live alone with a thirty-something man for four years. I hardly think they're attentive parents."

Brandon cracked his knuckles.

"Don't do that, kid! You'll get arthritis."

Brandon took his plate to the sink and snuck the unbeaten bacon and sausage into his pockets.

"May I be excused?"

His uncle smiled.

"For now."

Brandon went upstairs, wondering what Clive had meant.

"_But you'll have to be sociable sooner or later. I can't handle another Luke_." Clive thought to himself.

* * *

Once in his room, Brandon fed the dog as he had done for the last two weeks by sneaking the meat part of his breakfast upstairs.

"Are you sure I can't name you?" He asked.

The dog shook his head.

"Master probably wouldn't like it. Brandon, you look sad."

"I'm not sad. I'm just...bored." The boy lied.

The dog suggested playing to cheer him up. They agreed on dressing up.

Brandon donned a pirate hat and sword he had found in his wardrobe from last Halloween, and tied the sleeves of his blazer around his neck, serving as a makeshift cape.

"Something's missing..." He muttered.

He left the room and went into one that he guessed was his mother's. The boy seized a white feather boa and wrapped it around his neck. He also took a beige winter hat with ear flaps and put it on under the pirate hat, trying his hardest to mimic the photograph he had seen in the album that the dog had identified as his owner. "Perfect" he admitted, after making his way back to his room and admiring himself in the mirror. He swished his toy sword around, yelling "I'M A SCIENTIST!"

He glanced at the puppy and smiled.

Clive watched through the slightly open door. Was it just him or did that outfit look slightly familiar? Something about a hat and boa. And why would that particular outfit make Brandon a scientist. He shook his head as he walked away, deciding that kids got weirder and weirder throughout the generations.


	38. Chapter 38

**Hey. I've nearly saved up for curious village and diabolical box (B.O.G.O.F)**

**So I might add Flora eventually. **

**Eh, maybe not...**

**And If I'm lucky, I'll be going to a creative writing workshop tomorrow AND my music teacher said she'll help me out with the notes to Descole's theme. **

**Tomorrow is a good day. **

**Sorry this chapter is so short I just...eh. **

**(I also had popcorn for breakfast.)**

* * *

"You're still missing something..." Mused the dog, looking at Brandon's costume.

"I know!" He yelped. "A mask!"

Brandon looked at him. "And _where_ would I get one of those?"

Both of them sighed and flopped onto the bed.

Brandon noticed that his friend had gotten slightly bigger, though it was still as skinny as anything.

"Hit a growth spurt, huh?"

Jut then the door opened and Clive came in.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you but..."

He looked at the puppy lying on his nephew's right.

"...wait...why is there a wolf in your room?"

Brandon sat up and got off of the bed, turning around to face Clive.

"He's not a wolf, he's a dog."

"Oh, and he told you that, did he? Well of course. After all, wolves are much more reliable than people when it comes to telling the truth. It's not like they're dangerous or associated with villains or anything."

"He's a DOG!" Was Brandon's irritated reply. He threw a pillow Clive, but it only hit the door as he closed it and stepped out, leaving Brandon to wonder why he had bothered to come in in the first place.

"Brandon?"

"Yes?"

"I'm a wolf."


	39. Chapter 39

**Hey. I've just written a terrible one shot, so if you want to stop your eyes from running away in terror, I wouldn't read "****_keeping Descole in check_****"**

**Good day to you, sir and please review, and to those of you who have: THANKYOUCAUSEYOU'RESOAWESOMEIDON'TKNOWWHATI'DDOWIT HOUTYOU!**

* * *

Clive had been right. How could he have been right?

Brandon sighed and sat down at the small desk by his window. He rummaged through sheets of paper and selected one that was void of his messy handwriting.

The boy then grabbed some scissors and cut out a mask and then continued to cut out the eye holes. He punched a hole on either side and tied some thread through. Afterwards, Brandon put the mask on, careful not to rip it.

He turned to the puppy.

"Better?"

* * *

Downstairs, Clive returned to the man standing in the front room.

" I don't think he wants to have lessons today."

Brandon's tutor replied with a tone of annoyance in his voice." He has to do something. He can't just stay in his room, he has to learn. He has to be doing something valuable with his time. He only has three options: private tutoring, school or an apprenticeship."

Clive shook his head.

"Yes but...give him time. Let him get his head around the fact that he's an orphan now."

"Very well, but if he's not ready to be taught after one more week, I shall have to hand in my notice."

"But he doesn't speak to the other children, he's always been...withdrawn. Just give him time to sort himself out. You know that you're the only tutor he can talk to. He doesn't seem to get on with most people. You were the only one he'd actually give the time of day. Please just...just give him time."

Clive's pleading did not reach empty ears. The tutor nodded and agreed to give the boy another month to sort himself out before leaving the house.

But Clive knew it might take much longer than a month for Brandon to "sort himself out".

"Brandon!" He called.

"I'm coming up. We need to talk...uh, again."


	40. Before,

**Sorry it took me so long to get around to writing this chapter, blame my friend who introduced me to****_ Hetalia. _**

**Thanks to lamb for reviewing. Don't worry, I plan to get to Luke's death soon. **

**And sorry if you got spoiled...but I did put a spoiler warning in the summary so...uh...I don't really know what else to say...**

**And everyone else, keep those reviews coming. Unless you don't want to. I won't force you, though its a shame that battle axe in my top drawer is going to go to waste...**

* * *

_Clive stood in front of the space that had once been his home and sighed. When he had gone to prison, he had given them the right to turn it into flats for people made homeless by his misdeeds. It still looked the same on the outside, but inside would have been completely different, modified to suit the needs of the hoards of people who had been forced to flock to it. All of his stuff was in a locker somewhere, and the art work and sculptures that had once graced Dove manor were in various museums both in Britain and abroad. He slumped the bag that he had set of the floor back over his shoulder and walked towards where he had been told the locker was. _

_Upon reaching his destination, Clive turned the small key and struggled to open the garage-like door. Inside it was dark, damp and dusty, but he improved the situation of lighting with a flick of a switch he had fumbled around to find. _

_All of his belongings were in the room, a bag of clothes, boxes of shoes, old engineering equipment and a shoebox half filled with pictures. _

_The young man was surprised that his old clothes fitted him after almost a decade, but it was understandable seeing as he had grown skinny in jail. He planned to fix that, and his hand chances upon a wallet in his trousers. Clive remembered his habit of keeping a wallet in every pair of trousers when he was younger, in case he forgot to bring one when he went out. The young man smiled as he left the storage room and headed towards a restaurant. _

_He paused outside the door. He really shouldn't waste money, at least not until he had a steady job, but who would want to hire the man that had aimed to destroy London? No one, that was who. With a heavy sigh he instead walked to a small fish and chip shop and bought a fish, a cone of chips and a bottle of water. The whole while hoping that no one would recognise him. No one did._

_As he left, he bumped into a man of his own height-no, slightly shorter. He looked across to see someone who he had not expected. _

_"L-Luke?"_

_The man in question smiled and his eyes widened. Clive wondered if it could it really be him. Yes of course it was. They both had the same hair, complexion and eyes. It would have been a strange coincidence if the person he had bumped into were someone other than Luke. A strange coincidence indeed. _

_Luke continued to smile at the man in front of him. _

_"Clive!" He said it not as a question but more as a statement. As if he wasn't shocked at all that a mass murder had been freed front he confines of prison so long before his time. _

_Luke's smile never faltered as he brought Clive back to his home. It was when he entered the hallway that his grin ceased to exist, almost as though he had remembered something. _

_Clive noticed Luke whisper "Clara" under he breath, and it would have been inaudible if Clive and Luke hadn't been standing so close. _

_Luke smiled again, trying his best not to let on that anything was wrong. "I have to show you something, Clive. I don't know how you'll take it but I'm sure that you'll be shocked if anything."_

_The following hour had Luke explain his findings to Clive, and that they where actually brothers. It seemed farfetched at first, but the more Luke explained himself, the more Clive found himself believing him. Of corse it had hurt to find out that the parents he had worked hard to avenge where not his biological family, but they had raised him and treated him as a son, as had Constance. To Clive, that was enough. _

_Luke went on to tell Clive about Clark and Brenda, his real parents. Clive found himself half glad he had not been wanted by them, they seemed to lack some vital skills when it came to parenting. _

_Luke retrieved a photo album from a shelf and opened it, he quickly went past the pictures of him as a child with the professor to one of a young woman. He paused unintentionally here, hardly breathing as he stared at the page. His hand trembled as he tried to turn it. Once he had succeeded, he showed Clive a photograph of Clark and Brenda. Clive looked at the photograph for some time, identifying the resemblance between him and the couple. Luke turned around and took a folder out of a box. Clive recognised the name written on it as it was his own. He took it from Luke and opened it, resulting in a photograph falling out. Clive retrieved it from the ground and looked at it, turning it around to reveal writing. He turned it around again to see a couple holding a baby in their arms. _

_The baby was none other than Clive Dove. _

_Speaking of babies, Clive heard a cry from down the hall. He looked up and stood to search for the source of the sound while Luke sat on the floor. When Clive had stood, the album had fallen from his lap and onto the ground. It's page fell back to the photo of a young woman and Luke stared at it, his hands shaking and his eyes unblinking. _

_Clive found the room that the cry had come from and entered. In a small bed lay a child, around two years of age. The infant stared up at Clive, his dark brown eyes identical to both Clive and Luke's. _

_"Hello." Muttered Clive. _

_"Are you having some trouble getting to sleep?" He sat down on the edge of the child's bed, and the tiny boy scrambled onto Clive's lap and hugged him. The young man was unsure was to do at first, but hugged him back and gently eased him back into bed where the boy fell back asleep with ease. _

_Clive smiled as he went back into the room he and Luke had occupied a moment ago. _

_"Whose that boy in there? Is he your son?"_

_Luke looked up from the picture he had been staring at. "Boy? Oh yes. My son." Luke's tone of voice was flat and dismissive. It was then that Clive realised how different Luke was from the boy he had once known. He sat down and closed the book Luke had been looking at. Luke smiled weakly, clearly forcing himself to. "It's getting late. Perhaps you should be going. If you could return to tomorrow I would be much obliged." Clue nodded and left, making his way to the storage locker. He would have to sleep there tonight and he did not look forward to it. _


	41. Chapter 41

"Brandon!" Clive called. "I'm coming up. We need to talk...uh, again. "

Brandon turned around to face the door, but refrained from answering. He could hear Clive's footsteps as they made their way up in his direction. The door opened and Clive entered the room, regardless that Brandon hasn't given any form of consent.

"Your tutor was just here. He says you need to-

_What on earth are wearing_?"

Brandon adjusted his feather boa and answered Clive. " I was just dressing up. I was bored so..."

"What where you dressing up as? A transvestite?"

Clive tried-and failed not to laugh at this point, despite Brandon not getting the joke.

The outfit had been ridiculous before, but the mask just added to the hilarity.

"Stop laughing!" Ordered a very red in the face Brandon.

Clive found it hard, but managed to reduce his self inflicted laughter to a grin.

"Ahem-sorry. Anyway, your tutor was just here. He says that you need to start your lessons again or go to school. He willing to give you a month to recover from Lu-your father's death, but that's all."

The small boy looked out of the window with forlorn. He had never been able to et on with people his own age. Talking to them was tiring and the short lived conversations he occasionally had with them were never something he enjoyed. Having been raised by Luke and Clive, neither of whom ever did anything remotely social, he wasn't a shock that Brandon found it so hard to be social towards other people. His well-bred politeness only took him so far, and he would often find himself snapping at the juvenile delinquents commonly know as the local kids.

"Brandon?"

Clive's sudden call jolted Brandon back to real life an away from his thoughts. "Huh? Oh, yes. I'll start back next week."

"That's a little soon. Are you sure-"

"Yes, yes. It's fine. " said Brandon, dismissing Clive with a wave of his hand.

Clive chuckled at his nephew's regal approach at telling him to get out, and raised both hands in surrender. "Ok, I'll go. But if I'm going, that thing goes too."

Brandon looked to his friend and then his guardian. As Brandon's carer, it was his job to prevent bad things from happening to him. How could he do that if he left Brandon alone with a wild animal?

"But I...he...fine. Stay."

Huffed Brandon.


	42. Chapter 42

**Updates might be a bit slower lately, I'm having a hard time with this story, enjoy and reveiw!**

* * *

"I'm terribly sorry Randall, I honestly can't say what came over me."

The professor's apologetic voice over the phone was comforting for Randall. It was good to know that what his friend had said were merely spur-of-the-moment and meant nothing, even if they still hurt to thing about.

"It's fine, Hersh. I honestly don't care what you think of me anyway, I already _know_ I'm awesome."

Layton chuckled at his friend's big-headedness, but also found himself agreeing with him.

"Yes well, I was thinking and, I think it would be a good time to take you up on your offer."

Randall's heart skipped a beat.

"You mean you'll come? We-we have to make arrangements, book train tickets, get you a room at the camel's hump-"

Randall babbled on and Layton listened politely, intervening with a "yes" of approval when necessary.

Angela walked into the room and saw her husband talking animatedly on the phone.

"Who are you talking to?"

"And pack everything you need, Hersh. I don't want you to have to leave early because you forgot your toothbrush- oh, hey Angela. Hershel said he'd visit. Isn't that brilliant?"

The blonde nodded, glad to see that the two had made up.

"That's wonderful. I'll go and tell Henry."

Randall paused, covering the phone with his hand so that the professor couldn't overhear.

" I don't think that would be a great idea, Ange. He'll get...jealous."

Angela frowned, she had no idea why Henry would get jealous that Hershel would be visiting. Randall on the other hand, knew only too well.

* * *

_It was dark as Randall entered his bedroom. Three weeks had passed since his return, and the constant affections he received from Angela had tired him out. He flopped down onto the bed as someone knocked on the door. _

_"Come in, honey."_

_To Randall's shock and Henry's embarrassment, Henry entered the room. _

_"Oh I didn't-I thought you were Angela."_

_Henry found himself feeling a little disappointed. _

_"Yes...well I have something I have to tell you."_

_Randall looked at his friend with a smirk. _

_"Ooh~ let me guess, you're gay for me."_

_Henry swore that his heart stopped in that one moment. _

_"Actually...yes Master Randall. I wasn't sure but...but when you came back I knew and, I know that you love Angela, but its only fair that you know."_

_Both of the men regarded each other in tense silence. _

_"Oh. In that case I'm sorry. It must have hurt pretty bad when you saw me making out with-"_

_Henry shook his head. _

_"No master Randall. I want you to be happy, and Angela makes you happy."_

_It was Randall's turn to shake his head. _

_"I wasn't going to say Angela...I was going to say Hershel."_

_Henry felt his hands ball into fists. _

_"...H-how long has this been going on?"_

_"Nothing's going on, Henry. He just, well I was a little tipsy and walked into his hotel room by mistake a a couple of days ago when he was getting dressed, then I passed out on top of him. When I saw him the next day he kept blushing because I'd seen him naked and fallen on top of him. I suppose because I was always flirty with him when we were younger to make him uncomfortable, seeing him blush like that brought back memories. So I tried to make him more uncomfortable, which led to me..."_

_Henry cleared his throat. He didn't need to hear the rest. _

_"Sorry Henry, its just really fun to annoy him. Are you sure you didn't see me kiss him? He made a pretty big fuss about it, he even but my tongue to get it out of his mouth."_

_Henry grimaced, the details weren't exactly something that he wanted Randall to go into. _

_Randall smirked again. _

_"...Hersh mightn't have enjoyed himself, but Angela sure did. I'm not sure how many pictures she took, but I catch her looking at them every now and again. I didn't know she was into guy-on-guy or I would have kissed Hersh years ago-right, oh...sorry."_

_Henry smiled weakly. _

_"It's ok, master Randall. I just came here to tell you how I felt, I didn't expect anything."_

_Randall felt a pang of guilt as he answered Henry. _

_"We can still just be friends."_


End file.
